THE FLIGHT

From "Where Hoffman Told His Fairytales" [Page 235]...The next morning, Friday, January 19, 1945 Gretel
decided that she had seen enough. She had sufficient evidence to report to the
mayor. She asked him if it was time to prepare for the flight and whether she
was allowed to start packing. His response was abrupt and aggressive. “Frau
Fischer, you’ll be alarming the whole village with your fears,” he said, “we
don’t have orders to pack, so sit back and wait!” But Gretel would not be
browbeaten. Without the mayor’s permission she gave Anton and Ivan instructions
to go to the shed and downsize the two wooden carts and prepare them for the
escape. She ordered them to cover the front half of the cart with boards as
protection against wind and snow, just as Gretel had seen it done on the
Goldapp refugees’ wagon. Gretel had noticed there were sufficient boards
stacked in the shed; if there weren’t enough, the men were ordered to pull
extra boards out of the barn wall. Gretel told them this was to be done in
secret, no one in the village must know about it and they should keep the shed
door shut. From "Where Hoffman Told His Fairytales" [Page 238]...There was no sleep for anyone in the house that
night. The drones and thuds of grenades
were endless, the ground trembled, walls and doors shook and windows
rattled. There was real fear that the house
would collapse over their heads, and that the Russians would be upon them any
minute.Gretel couldn’t stand lying in bed any longer. Looking towards the north-east, from her
living-room window she could see smoke rising.
‘That could be Wehlau burning,’ she thought to herself. From the kitchen window she noticed several
fires to the south-east. They seemed
alarmingly close. It was truly
frightening. Gretel heard steps behind her. “We simply have to get away from here,” Mama
whispered. She had also been unable to
sleep and was looking out of the window over Gretel’s shoulder into the
dreadful night in which everything seemed to be lost. In this instant they both knew it was not
possible to remain in the house. As
painful as the prospect was, they had to come to grips with it and finally act.From "Where Hoffman Told His Fairytales" [Page 243]...After Gretel had climbed up, Mama handed her the
two small children who didn’t understand what was happening. They had quietly watched the hustle and
bustle around them all day and now they were being lifted onto a heavily loaded
wagon when it was soon time to go to bed!
They didn’t ask and they didn’t complain, but Gretel did wonder what
might be going on in their little heads. It was high time to leave, and there was no room
for nostalgia. They exited the village
and Gretel turned around to once more contemplate what they were leaving
behind, when she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to report to the
Königsberg Gestapo the very next day, January 23. Well, the gentlemen of the Gestapo would have
to wait a long time to see her… at least there was one positive aspect to the
flight, Gretel thought to herself wryly.From "Where Hoffman Told His Fairytales" [Page 254]...Gretel learned from the Panzer group that a
section of the Russian army, coming up from the south, had advanced as far as
Elbing. This meant that East Prussia was
closed in, and an escape over land was no longer possible. The Panzer unit was going to attempt to break
through to the west the next morning, while the only route open to the civilian
refugees was the frozen Frisches Haff,
the Vistula Lagoon.From their accommodations, Gretel and her group had a
good view of the vast stretch of ice that was the lagoon. However, it was now February, it had been
raining and there were signs of early thawing.
The sky was clouded over that morning which meant that vehicles
traversing the ice would be somewhat concealed from low-flying enemy planes
which were known to target civilians. Gretel knew that, not only was the weather
conducive for the perilous crossing, it was also one of the last few days such
a crossing would be possible.Gretel couldn’t help shuddering when the horses
finally took their first steps on the ice.
She knew it was risky, but it was their last resource. They had been advised to keep a considerable
distance from the wagon ahead.
With each step of the horses the
mainland was left further behind, and was soon out of sight. All the refugees could see was an
interminable white surface of ice. The Frisches Haff Vistula Lagoon was 20
kilometers wide at this spot. They would
need one full day before they could hope to reach the shore of the Nehrung spit.

Suddenly a loud crack resounded like a loud thunder bolt
through the eerie silence, and the wagon shook slightly. The ice must have split open somewhere. Gretel briefly wondered whether they were
only on an ice floe, rather than on continuous surface.Anton stopped the wagon and everyone sat tense and
still, listening for signs of crackling.
Over an open spot in the ice they noticed a wooden bridge. It resembled a walkway over a creek and
seemed strangely out of place. Even though
the skies were overcast when they first started out, it was now clearing. They were no longer protected by clouds and
sure enough, to their utter horror, enemy fighter planes suddenly appeared out
of nowhere and came straight at them.
They could clearly see shots raining down and hitting the ice around the
wagons just ahead of them. Anton stopped the horses. He and Maria leaped down and slithered under
the wagon. Mama jumped up from her seat
and did the same, calling to Gretel to grab the children and join her. However, Gretel was stuck in the rear of the
wagon with the two boys…. there was not enough time to get out.She looked up and saw the lead fighter aiming his
guns at her wagon; the shooter positioned behind the machine gun was ready to
pull the trigger. Gretel pulled her
children close and stared at the gun directed at her. “Dear God,” she pleaded, “if this is it,
please take all three of us”. She
couldn’t fathom being left behind alone, and what would her poor children do without
a mother?

Gretel’s prayers were heard. There were no more shots. The shooter decided as if by a miracle not to
pull the trigger. Instead, the aircraft
pulled up into a steep climb before her eyes and headed back into the thin
layer of clouds, with all the other planes behind him. They disappeared as mysteriously as they had
emerged.From "Where Hoffman Told His Fairytales" [Page 271]...The refugees’ trek continued the 465 kilometers
along the coast of the Baltic Sea through Pomerania. Each day was taking them
further away from their home. The
larger town after Stolp was Kolberg, followed by Stettin, followed by the
crossing of the river Oder. At the train
stations of every town the same scenes were repeated – masses of people with
their luggage, waiting for trains that didn’t come. Only once, in Neubrandenburg, where they stopped
at the station for a rest, there was actually a train standing on the tracks
ready for departure, with people hustling to get on.It was now March. The flight had already lasted seven
weeks. For practically 50 nights the two
young children had had to put their little heads down in a new and strange
place, and the strain started to show.From "Where Hoffman Told His Fairytales" [Page 273]...On April 24, American and Russian forces merged
in Wurzen. On April 30, Adolf Hitler
committed suicide in his bunker at the Reich Chancellery, and on May 8 the
German Army announced the unconditional surrender to its east and west
enemies. Gretel and her children remained in the Russian zone. Mama had reached the west zone that was
inaccessible to Gretel. Arno was in the
U.S. Papa was in the part of East
Prussia that had been ceded to the Russians.
A dispersed family that had yet to find a way to reunite.